


A Helping Hand

by thewaythatwerust



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Basically PWP, Bottom Steve Rogers, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Coming In Pants, Crack, Dirty Talk, Dry Orgasm, Felching, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Not Canon Compliant, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Prank Wars, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Top Bucky Barnes, Viagra, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 01:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaythatwerust/pseuds/thewaythatwerust
Summary: The one where Tony thinks Steve is wound too tightly and decides he needs a nudge in the right direction so he can release some... steam. Via Super-soldier strength Viagra-esque means. But dosing a super soldier is tricky business. Luckily, Bucky is there to lend a helping hand. And then some.---Chapter 1 is the set up, Chatpers 2, 3, 4 are smutty fun times, Chapter 5 is where Bucky takes his revenge on Tony.Can be read Chapter 1 + 5 and bypass the smut if you're so inclined.





	1. A Little Nudge

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't use warnings, because it's a bit tricky to decide whether they fit. So in regards to triggers, please be warned that Steve is given Viagra without his consent or knowledge. And Steve tells Bucky to leave (before Bucky knows the situation). 
> 
> However, what follows is consensual.

  
_Something wasn't right._  
  
It wasn’t like Steve to just offer a curt goodnight mid-conversation, and leave without explanation. Bucky’s mind filled with questions as Steve jabbed at the elevator button, surprised it didn’t shatter under the assault. Tension radiated off his body, his hulking shoulders were raised and tight; like a coiled spring ready to snap.  
  
Bucky pushed away from the table, his motion fluid, his intent clear: to follow his best friend and find out what was wrong. But a restraining hand on his metal one stilled his movements.  
  
“No, give him a minute. Or,” Tony said, scratching his chin with his free hand, “maybe twenty.”

  
Stark and Bucky were in an uneasy holding pattern, circling Steve. An armistice brought about by shared friendship. For his part, Bucky preferred to avoid Stark where possible. As such, he was unable to pick up on all his particular nuances (though his nuisance list was impressive) to know that his voice was laced with a smug amusement.  
  
Bucky looked pointedly from Stark’s face, to his hand –still grasping his metal arm-- and back to Tony’s face. It didn’t take a genius to decipher the wordless message, or the air of a threat that accompanied it. The offending hand was moved without further ado; a slight cough the only fanfare to signal Bucky’s small victory.  
  
“What did you do to him?”  
  
Trusting your gut was something of a hard earned lesson in his former life, and seeds of suspicion had begun to grow already. Steve’s sudden departure had something to do with Stark. He was sure of it.  
  
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
Bucky looked around the spacious room of Stark’s self-aggrandizing castle in the sky. Subtlety wasn’t exactly Tony’s strong suit. Luckily, extracting information was one of Bucky’s.  But eyes narrowing and metal fingers curling into a fist was the only persuasion Tony required. Unfortunately.  
  
“Okay. Fine. Surely it hasn’t escaped your super soldier powers of observation, but Rogers has been a bit tightly wound lately. Irritable. Tense. He just needs a little...” Stark made a vague gesture with his hands then sighed when Bucky made no show of understanding. “He needs some little Cap time as it were. But since he’s not really the self care type, I figured I’d give him a little nudge.”  
  
Brows knitted together in a scowl, Bucky's gaze drifted back to the elevator. Now empty. Steve-less. He had no idea what Stark was trying to tell him.  
  
“How?”  
  
“Just a little something to help him release some… _steam_. Admittedly it’s a bit of an unknown quantity, dosing a man with magic mix biology. Maybe you want to go and check he’s okay? Lend a hand, as they say.”

Bucky wasn't sure what Stark had planned, but he knew it wasn't going to end well. He had to find Steve.

 

 

Bucky stood outside Steve’s room, not for the first time tonight, with both hands curled into fists.

  
Three hours ago, he’d been standing here, in this very spot, trying to get Steve to open the door. A strained voice had assured Bucky that he was fine, and he would come and they’d talk later tonight. Bucky had wanted to object, but he did not want to impose if he was just overreacting.   
  
Grudgingly he had returned to his own room where he sank onto his too soft mattress and watched the clock on the off-white wall. The hands mocked him with every tick, and by the time tonight became tomorrow with no appearance from Steve, he had been unable to wait a minute more.

  
Concern and agitation warred in his body after three knocks and no answer. Violence was never the answer, until it was.  
  
After a well meaning shove of his Vibranium shoulder, he was in Steve’s room. In three long strides he was at the side of the bed, looking down at Steve. Steve, who was naked with only a blanket tangled around his flushed, sweat-slicked body protecting his modesty.

 

Bu--” Steve’s voice cracked. A dry tongue darted out in a vain attempt to moisten even drier lips. “Buck?” His voice was little more than a hoarse croak.

“God, Steve, you look like hell. Are you sick?”

“No! I – I’m fine.” Listless limbs pulled at the blankets, trying to cover exposed skin.

Bucky reached over and laid his flesh hand on Steve’s head, trying his gauge his temperature.

“No, please. I'm fine. Leave me.”

“Stop. You're dehydrated and overheating yourself with this stupid blanket.” As the words left his mouth, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it from Steve’s uncharacteristically weak grip.

  
  
A blanket of silence fell just as heavily as the now forgotten blanket dropped to the floor.

  
Bucky knew he should avert his gaze, but his eyes were trapped by the sight of Steve, laid out bare on the bed before him. The navy sheets around him were dark with sweat. His body was stained with the evidence of his spent lust; what had been strings and pools of his seed were now dried on his skin like some obscene Jackson Pollock painting. And his large cock was impossibly hard, deep red and leaking precome over his belly.  
  
Steve made a half-hearted effort to cover himself with his hand. Bucky tried to swallow. Neither attempts were entirely successful.

  
  
  
“Fuck. Steve,” he dragged his eyes, with considerable effort, from his body to his face, “what’s going on?”  
  
Steve’s eyes were a mix of embarrassment and exhaustion. The flush on his whole body deepened. Bucky stood stock still and waited, fixing his eyes on Steve’s face.  
  
“I’m not sure. I just,” Steve lifted one hand and gestured to his other hand - the one half-covering his cock - “it’s been like this for hours. It just won’t go away. Buck – I don’t know what happened.”  
  
Bucky’s eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what happened: _Stark._ This was obviously his _helping hand_. Bucky was going to murder him. _Slowly_. But first, he needed to figure out what the hell he was going to do with Steve.


	2. Roger that, Rogers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warning to obey was clear in Bucky's eyes, so Steve left his hands by his side, where gentle but firm fingers had placed them. Steve watched, transfixed, as Bucky spread his legs apart to make space enough for himself. He felt the bed dip under Bucky’s weight as he settled himself, cross-legged, on the mattress. Anticipation burned across Steve's skin like a wildfire. Bucky's teeth snagged his lower lip and hesitated.
> 
> Steve held his breath and waited.

 

 

Steve pulled the sheet edge across his lap as his eyelids fluttered closed. Energy depleted and body weak, sucking in air like his lungs were broken. He hadn’t felt like this since …since before the serum.

If he hadn't feel like he was dying, he would have been amused by the irony. Before the serum, he had never experienced anything like this. His body was too damaged, in too many ways, to divert extra energy to unimportant body parts like his cock.

Not that he hadn’t tried.

  
  
_Success had almost been his only once, after accidentally walking in on Bucky and his latest gal. With her skirt gathered up around her waist and Bucky on his knees, his mouth working furiously, she issued throaty moans of encouragement._

Even at the memory, he felt his skin prickle hotly.  
  
_A heavy heat had burned low in his belly and reddened his cheeks. In the nearest deserted alley he could find, desire conquered caution. A small hand worked into his pants, need matched only by impatience. He gripped himself tightly enough to border on pain and fisted his aching cock frantically._

_He could feel the erratic staccato of his heart echoing in his head. His breath hitched in his throat as his lungs burned in protest. His hand, now slicked with precome, raced along his cock, desperate for release. He reached down to squeeze his aching ballsac, every nerve in his body coming alive with pleasure. Staggering, he'd bit back a moan by biting his lip hard enough to draw blood._

_Blackness blurred the edges of his vision, but it couldn't drown out the image of Bucky seared into his mind. The certainty of knowing he wanted to be in the girl’s place -- with Bucky kneeling in front of him, mouth wrapped around him, making him come apart at the seams -- was more than his tormented body could take, and finally the darkness had claimed him and he'd crumpled to the ground before he could find his peak._

  
Now, cushioned on Stark’s marshmallow-soft mattress, with his own discharges dried on his skin, oblivion threatened him like it had all those years ago.

  
  
“Steve? Here, sit up, drink this.”  
  
It took a Herculean effort to open his eyes. His whole body was heavy, sluggish. After a two failed attempts, his success was rewarded with the view of Bucky, standing over him, holding a large glass of orange juice.  
  
Exhaustion couldn't hide the shock in his voice. “You’re still here.”  
  
Bucky flashed a reassuring smile. It died too quickly on his lips to be genuine. “Of course, punk. Who else gets you out of these messes you manage to make for yourself?”  
  
After heaving himself into a sitting position, his exhausted body fell back against the headboard, grateful for the support. His body's objections at the exertion were registered with a sudden surge of vertigo. Shaky hands accepted the cold glass; the condensation sent a chill through his heated flesh. Grimacing slightly as the acidic fluid passed cracked lips and caught him in the back of the throat, he closed his eyes again. He was past the point of exhaustion. If only the ache below would abate, he could sleep.

  
  
The sensation of a cold cloth wiping across his thighs jolted him upright. Juice sloshed from the glass onto his chest.  
  
“Sorry.” Bucky was on his knees beside the bed, focused on the cloth currently swiping over his sweaty skin. “I’m just cleaning you up.”  
  
“I can do that,” Steve protested weakly.  
  
Bucky avoided his gaze. “Just drink your juice. I’m in a better position to umm, find it all, anyway” Bucky's attempt to inject lightness to his tone rang false in Steve's ears. “Don’t want to miss any – might lead to some awkward questions.”  
  
“Questions?”  
  
Bucky had moved the cloth from his legs to his belly. “It’s been hours. And from what I saw, it doesn’t look like the, ah, situation is going to resolve itself. I think we need to call a doctor.”  
  
Steve blanched. “No.”  
  
“Look, Stark dosed you with something. Cooked up some kind of super soldier viagra if I had to guess.” Bucky grumbled something else under his breath -that sounded suspiciously like _moron_ \- but Steve couldn't be sure.  
  
“I – " he blinked. "What? Why?”  
  
“It’s _Stark_. There's no method in his madness. But, Steve, whatever he gave you, I think he gave you too much. Probably figured your metabolism would burn it off in half an hour flat, if it worked at all. But,” Bucky’s eyes flicked down to Steve’s half-covered erection and then settled back on his face, “he's obviously not the genius he pretends to be.”  
  
Steve looked to the door. Then the floor. Anywhere but at Bucky. Who was on his knees. His mouth inches away from... he coughed roughly.

  
“Steve, I googled it.”

Steve's head whipped to Bucky's face, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What? Don't look at me like that. Natasha showed me weeks ago.” He scrubbed the non-cloth-wielding hand through his hair distractedly. “It’s not _that_ rare from what I read. And it’s a relatively easy fix. A doctor will just take a syringe...” Bucky trailed off at Steve's horrified expression.  
  
Bucky cleared his throat, and started moving the cloth higher, soaking up the spilled juice before scrubbing gently at the milky ribbons of dried spunk decorating Steve's muscled chest.  
  
“They just insert it and remove the trapped blood. You should have immediate relief.”  
  
“Insert it? _In_... No.”  
  
“Steve --”  
  
“ _No,_ Bucky. I can’t do that.” He turned the glass round in his fingers. “No one can know about this.” Steve swallowed down the last of the juice. He placed the glass on the bedside table and reached down to rearrange the tented sheet at his hips. He swore softly under his breath. “No one.”  
  
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. This _isn't_ your fault.”  
  
He lifted his chin defiantly. “I can take care of it myself.”  
  
Bucky’s hand stilled. “Don't be stupid, you're half dead from trying already.”  
  
Steve wasn’t sure where his abused body managed to find the extra blood that reheated his cheeks, but he resolutely ignored it. “Thanks, Buck, but I’ll manage. Can you lock the door on your way out?” He turned his head pointedly toward the door.

 

  
Steve could feel the tension radiating from Bucky. He was familiar with Bucky's trademark mix of exasperation, frustration and resignation. It was directed his way whenever he set his mind to doing something Bucky strongly disagreed with. After a heavy pause, without a word, the damp cloth swiped over his left nipple. Steve sucked in a breath and swung his head around to focus, once again, on Bucky.  
  
The cloth started rubbing over his nipple in earnest now and Steve bit back a moan. He reached up and grabbed Bucky’s hand to halt its progress.  
  
He ground out words from behind clenched teeth. “Buck. _Don’t._ ”  
  
Bucky's eyes held a challenge but didn't move to break free of his grasp. “What? You have come all over your chest, Steve. I said I was going to clean you up, and I intend to – in case you see reason and decide to call a doctor.”  
  
Steve knew Bucky well enough to know once he set his mind to something, there was no changing it. And, as much as he was loathe to admit it, the way sparks of pleasure streaked through his body at the friction, it may even speed things along for his next... session.  
  
He released Bucky's hand and clenched his jaw as the rubbing switched from one nipple to the other. An internal battle was being waged in his body, and it took every ounce of self control to keep from moaning and grabbing his cock right then and there. He matched Bucky's determined gaze, unflinchingly. He wouldn’t let Bucky know what he was doing to him.

The dull ache in his cock, that began when Bucky had started tending to him, was now a constant almost intolerable pressure. He felt his wetness leaking down his shaft and coating his balls, full and throbbing against the mattress.

 

  
Finally, after what felt like an hour, the cloth stilled. Bucky’s free hand reached up and cupped Steve’s face.  
  
Steve froze.  
  
“You, uh, have some...” The cloth came up to wipe gently at his cheek, sliding down toward the corner of his mouth.  
  
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, mortified.  
  
Bucky dropped his hand, all traces of the previous challenge gone. “Hey, look at me.”  
  
Steve dragged his eyes up to Bucky' face and settled on the small curved of his lips. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal, you know that, right?” The smile inched its way into a wry smile, “I always get it on my face.”  
  
Steve tried to unstick his suddenly dry tongue from the roof of his mouth. Unbidden, an image of Bucky laid out naked, sweaty strands of hair clinging to his face as he pleasured himself danced in front of his eyes.

Steve swallowed. “Always? You – do this a lot?” He winced. He hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous.  
  
Bucky's eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted subtly to the right. “Don’t you?”  
  
Steve shook his head slowly.  
  
“Not much, or …?”  
  
The question hung in the air between them. Steve didn't respond, just fixed his best friend with a stare that dared Bucky to mock him. A stare that said he was completely fine with being a hundred year old virgin.  
  
Bucky blew out a low breath. “No wonder Stark thinks you’re tense. You could be the poster boy for pent-up sexual frustration.”  
  
He was pretty sure the skin on his face was only a few degrees shy of igniting.

  
  
“Buck, thank you for your ...help. And for the juice, too.” Steve meant the last part, at least. He could feel the sugary liquid working its way through his system already. “But I think I should really, ah, take care of things now.” Steve was acutely aware of how awkward he sounded. Luckily, it wasn’t half as awkward as he felt. He just needed Bucky to leave before he humiliated himself further. For good measure, just in case Bucky didn't get the message, he added hastily, “By myself.”  
  
Bucky hesitated. “Roger that, Rogers. I’m going to just wash this out,” he twirled the washcloth on a metal finger as he stood and started toward the large en-suite door directly across from the bed. “Don't mind me, you go ahead and get started. I’ll let myself out when I’m done.”  
  
“G--get started?” His carefully built facade of confidence came crumbling down with a single squeak. He cringed, again, instinctively knowing it wouldn’t be the last time tonight.  
  
“Sure. I mean, unless you can’t actually take care of it yourself?” The mocking tone was bolstered with a challenge.

  
  
Steve weighed his options.

  
  
Clearly, Bucky thought he _wouldn’t_ deal with it. That made sense, Bucky was worried about him and what would happen if he ignored the problem. Which, to be fair, was exactly what he wanted to do. In that case, Bucky would probably call the doctor regardless of his protests.  
  
Or, Bucky thought he _couldn’t_ deal with it. Which also made sense; he had all but admitted that he had zero experience with these things. And not dealing with it led straight back to the medical intervention option.

  
It’s not like Bucky wanted to _see_ him deal with it. Did he? The thought made his stomach flutter in a strange but not at all awful way. His heart beat a rapid tempo in his chest; a frenzied Morse code sending impossible thoughts to his brain.

 _Bucky already seen everything anyway, hadn’t he?_  
  
The small voice in his head warning him this was not a good idea was drowned out by the inextricable need for Bucky to see him. Maybe to prove he could. Maybe to show he wasn’t that sexless little boy from Brooklyn anymore. Maybe for some other hopeful reason that Steve didn’t want to examine too closely.

 

  
It took two swift heartbeats and one deep breath before the last vestiges of fabric keeping his modesty were abandoned. Taking himself in hand, he started the now familiar motions. His body trembled with barely contained anticipation; Bucky could walk in and see him at any moment. He was so painfully hard, throbbing with need, and leaking clear fluid from his slit continuously like his body was crying for release.  
  
A series of soft _ohs_ pulled from his chest as his hand pushed up and down his rigid shaft. He shoulder ached as his hand's speed increased, seeking reprieve from the pressure almost more than wanting the crest of pleasure. After so much attention been paid it already tonight, his grip on the raw skin of his cock was bordering on _too_ painful. Ten more strokes. Twenty. He grunted. He wasn’t sure he could bare it for much longer. Gritting his teeth, he cried out in pain as he stroked over the swollen head.

 

  
Bucky was at his side so quickly, Steve realized belatedly he must have been watching him from the bathroom. His cock jerked in his hand. He didn’t have a chance to even feign modesty. Bucky's hand grabbed his and squeezed, stopping him and making him jerk forward when the metal fingers made contact with his cock.

“Steve, no. You’re hurting yourself.”  
  
Steve closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of cool metal on inflamed flesh. “I know what I’m doing,” he could almost feel Bucky's sarcastic eyebrow raise in response, but he continued “-- more or less. It’s just – I’m just a bit… overworked.”  
  
He opened his eyes and freed his hand. Trying not to focus on the sudden feeling of loss that accompanied the removal of Bucky's fingers, he loosened his grip on himself. He watched as Bucky’s eyes followed his hand. Up, down. He watched Bucky watch him. Up, down. Steve groaned, his body protesting his touch, but he dared not stop and risk Bucky turning away.  
  
“Maybe you should stop.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse, but his eyes hadn’t left Steve’s fist.  
  
“I don’t think I have a choice,” Steve hissed, “I can’t leave it like this. I'm so hard, Buck. It hurts whether I touch myself or not.”  
  
Bucky grabbed his hand once more.  
  
“Buck..”  
  
“ _No._ Steve. Just wait. I think..” he looked back to Steve’s face, his expression unreadable. “I have an idea.”  
.

  
  
The warning to obey was clear in Bucky's eyes, so Steve left his hands by his side, where gentle but firm fingers had placed them. Steve watched, transfixed, as Bucky spread his legs apart to make space enough for himself. He felt the bed dip under Bucky’s weight as he settled himself, cross-legged, on the mattress. Anticipation burned across Steve's skin like a wildfire. Bucky's teeth snagged his lower lip, hesitating; his eyes focused on the cock standing at full attention between them, inflamed and weeping.  
  
Steve held his breath and waited.  
  
Eternity passed in a minute before Bucky reached out his metal arm and wrapped smooth, cold fingers around Steve’s exposed shaft one by one. Steve couldn’t swallow the moan that tore from his throat. This was the most phenomenal moment of his long life.  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“Oh. Uhhh, yes. Okay.” Steve’s breath hissed out in a rush, but now it had nothing at all to do with pain.  
  
His precome glistened on the vibranium as long metal fingers traveled the length of his cock. The air was filled with obscene slicking noises as Bucky increased his pace.  
  
Steve wanted to close his eyes and surrender to the feelings that raged through his body, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky’s face. The rapt way he was staring at his own hand, stroking Steve had him mesmerized.  
  
“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?”  
  
“No. Please,” Steve panted, “Please, don’t stop.”  
  
“It feels good?”  
  
“Mmm. Yes. So good." Steve tugged his lower lip between his teeth, bit down hard, and tried not to whimper. He couldn’t believe the difference in sensation of having another hand on him. Having _Bucky’s_ hand on him. Jerking him off.  
  
“Yeah, it took me a long time to use it like this. For pleasure.”  
  
Steve watched as Bucky's eyes, still staring at his hand, became unfocused, lost somewhere in his mind. The metal fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their quick pace and Bucky was laser focused on Steve again.  
  
“But I came to terms with it,” a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, “after a few rounds, the coolness helps get the job done.”  
  
Steve groaned. “A few rounds?”  
  
Bucky nodded. “Super soldier perk, I guess? We could compare notes if you actually took care of yourself. Increased speed, strength, and endurance,” Bucky changed his motions, moving up and down just over the head, thumb rubbing back and forth over his leaking slit, “..in every way. It's probably why you're so backed up.”  
  
Steve lost himself in the sensations that flooded his body. To hear Bucky talk like this was driving him crazy with desire. To picture him pleasuring himself again and again, until he was spent and covered in his release.  
  
Steve's hips jerked upward, forcing Bucky's hand down his shaft. Hips stuttering, he met Bucky’s strokes, and fucked into his best friend’s fist. He had learned quickly the signs of his impending climax, and when his balls started to tighten upwards, he knew he wouldn't last much longer. The metal around his cock had warmed while working his fervent flesh, and pain started to blur the rim of pleasure.  
  
“Buck, I, oh god, Bucky I’m gonna..”  
  
“Yeah, Stevie, it's alright, let go.” Bucky's hand increased speed and pressure, and he leaned down and blew a stream of cool air onto the weeping head.  
  
Steve wrapped his own hand around Bucky's as it raced along his aching cock, squeezing his best friend’s hand as it squeezed him. With one final thrust up into their joined hands, just inches from Bucky's mouth, he came with a series of guttural moans. He watched as ropes of his release flew up on to Bucky’s face, some landing on his lips, and he cried out again, sending another pulse of release jetting up towards Bucky's face, looking for purchase.  
  
Four, five, six spasms later and the last of his come was chasing a path down over their joined hands, still gripping his cock tightly.  
  
  
  
“Oh, fuck.” Steve closed his eyes and let his hand fall away as waves of electrical aftershocks twitched their way through his body. “That was something.”  
  
“ _Language._ ” He could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice as his hand relinquished its prize, and felt him sit back, shifting slightly on the bed.  
  
“Thank you, Buck.” Steve forced himself to ignore his embarrassment now the heat of the moment had crested and passed. He made eye contact with his best friend. “That actually helped a lot. It doesn’t feel quite as bad as before.”  
  
Bucky nodded. “No problem.”  
  
Steve gestured to Bucky’s come-painted face. “Uh, sorry about that. I think you’re gonna need that cloth for yourself this time.”  
  
“Hmm.” Bucky’s tongue darted out and licked the offending spunk off his lip.  
  
Steve’s cock jerked at the sight. A fresh river of fluid appeared from the tip. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and squeezed tightly.  
  
“Uhhh.”  
  
“You taste sweet. Must be all that fruit you eat.” He laughed but sobered when he took in the look on Steve's face. “Ah, obviously you’ve never tasted yourself?”

  
His brain felt like it was short circuiting. He wasn't entirely sure he hadn't passed out and was currently having some weird after-sex sex dream. Words were beyond his reach, so he simply shook his head.  
  
In what seemed to play out in slow motion, he watched as Bucky scooped some of Steve’s seed from his own cheek, and reached out and held it in front of Steve's lips, waiting. He parted his lips and Bucky pushed into his mouth. The hard metal rubbed against the softness of his tongue and felt his own release coat his tongue. It was a foreign taste, but not a bad one. Salty, and as Bucky had said, with an oddly sweet aftertaste.  
  
As Bucky made to remove his finger, Steve grabbed his wrist and held it in place. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he sucked on the hard digit, cheeks hollowing, slicking his tongue around it, removing every trace of himself. All while looking directly into Bucky’s eyes.  
  
“ _Stop_.” Bucky’s hoarse voice was lost somewhere between pleading and a warning.  
  
Steve immediately let his hand drop and the metal finger vanished from his mouth. He flushed, aroused and confused in equal measure.  
  
Bucky cleared his throat and rose from his seat between Steve’s open legs. “You’re right. I think we need that washcloth after all.”  
  
   
  
  
Several moments later, Bucky returned with a glass of water and a fresh cloth. Handing the glass to Steve – who wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a ploy to keep him from talking – Bucky settled himself back between Steve’s legs and set about cleaning him once more.  
  
He noticed all viscous markings from Bucky’s own face had been seen to while he was in the bathroom.  
  
“The metal worked well. Are you up for round two? Probably best to try and get this done as quickly as possible, before any permanent damage sets in.” Bucky’s voice was casual as he wiped the sticky strings from Steve’s still hard cock, gently.  
  
He clenched his jaw and watched the progress of the rough cloth, trying to decide how to proceed. Bucky was acting like it was some detached, clinical procedure, like he hadn’t been feeding Steve his own come not five minutes before. He wondered if it were possible to get whiplash while sitting still.  
  
   
  
On one hand he appreciated Bucky being here. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was out of his depth in his current predicament, and Bucky had always had his back in situations like this. Well, not like _this_ , exactly. But the feeling of safety and support that Bucky gave him were familiar and comforting, and certainly welcome at this moment.  
  
On the other hand, the intense levels of lust Bucky had aroused in him was not particularly helpful right now when Bucky was making it clear he was just here to lend a hand –as it were- as a friend. He didn't want to do something now that would jeopardize their friendship later.  
  
  
  
“Steve?” Bucky finished cleaning Steve's hand and stilled.  
  
Steve had made his decision. “No. I don’t think it's going to work. I’m too sensitive.” Steve sighed. “Could you go down and see if Tony has something to counteract whatever he gave me? Or knock me out? Just for a couple of hours. Maybe it will have ...resolved itself by then.”  
  
“ _Steve._ ”  
  
“No syringe.”  
  
Bucky huffed. “Fine. But do you really want Stark knowing he won? That his little nudge to rid you of your chronically blue balls was more than you could handle?”  
  
Steve flinched as if Bucky had hit him with more than his words.  
  
“I just mean – ” Bucky picked up the washcloth and rung it in his hands. “You said the effects lessen every time you...” he gestured vaguely toward Steve’s cock, still standing, impossibly hard between them. He cleared his throat. “So the obvious answer is that once you are, uh, empty, your problem should be over.”  
  
“Empty?”  
  
“Well, there seems less to clean up than last time. I’m guessing that next time there will be less again. And so on.”  
  
“You’re guessing?” Steve was incredulous. Not that he expected Bucky to have all the answers, but he didn’t like the thought of him having none at all.  
  
“Do you have any better theories?”  
  
Steve opened his mouth. “I – well. No.” He snapped his mouth shut.  
  
Bucky smirked and reached out with the washcloth for the wetness that had run down over Steve’s balls.  
  
“But how can we do that if I can’t even stand to be touch---” Steve’s hips jerked forward sharply. A strangled moan stuck in his throat. Bucky moved the cloth gently over the heavy sacks, and Steve whimpered.  
  
  
“Steve, I think I have another idea.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the re-upload. I wasn't overly happy with it so I did a bit of a rewrite and I think it works better now. Hopefully you guys do, too. 
> 
> Still trying to fit my particular writing style to work with the MCU / find my version of their voices, so please forgive any "teething problems".
> 
> I have most of the next chapters planned out, but if there's anything you wanna see, feel free to suggest it in the comments. No promises at all, but you never know when inspiration may strike.


	3. Detached and Clinical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was good at compartmentalization. Packing himself up into a little box and putting it on a shelf in the back of his mind and focusing on the mission. And right now, the mission was Steve. But he was found it more than a little difficult to not push his mission down and fuck him into the mattress so hard they broke the bed frame.

  
Bucky was good at compartmentalization. Packing himself up into a little box and putting it on a shelf in the back of his mind and focusing on the mission. And right now, the mission was _Steve_. But he found it more than a little difficult to not push his mission down and fuck him into the mattress so hard they broke the bed frame.

  
  
He clenched his jaw and exhaled slowly through his nose. He needed to calm down. The moment he had come in to see Steve on the bed, utterly wrecked and debauched, Bucky knew he was in serious trouble.

  
  
Bucky had wanted to keep things as detached and clinical as possible. He didn't want Steve to be embarrassed, but he didn't want Steve to know how the situation was affecting him, and embarrassing himself, either

He had slipped up earlier. Tasting Steve's come was probably as far from detached as you could get. Feeding Steve his own come was also, in hindsight, anything but clinical. And when Steve had gripped his hand, held his finger in his mouth and sucked on him, eyes full of desire and promise, Bucky had almost come in his pants, untouched.

As it were, he had barely made it to the bathroom before he grabbed his cock and fisted himself roughly. It took an embarrassingly short three strokes and he had been coming all over the fingers that still bore traces of Steve's release. It dredged every ounce of willpower in his body to keep from shouting. The only noise was from his too-firm grip -- an anchor in his tempest of pleasure -- sending a crack running through Stark's fancy ceramic sink.  
  
He'd have to think of an excuse for that later. Right now he was nestled between Steve's legs again -- which was rapidly becoming his new favorite place to be.

"Ready?"

Steve nodded.

The backs of Bucky's fingers rubbed against the cool, satiny sheets as he reached under to cup Steve's balls. Squeezing them gently, experimentally, his own balls tightened at Steve's resulting moan.  
_Detached and clinical. Detached and clinical._ He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

Bucky gripped them a little tighter and squeezed again, then started massaging the swollen sac with his fingertips.  
  
"Yesssss, ohh, fuck" Steve's legs spread further of their own accord, bent knees lifted toward his body, affording Bucky much better access.

"Christ, Steve, were you always this sensitive, or is this a Captain America bonus?"

Bucky's fingers worked constantly. He pressed and squeezed and pulled the heavy globes down away from Steve's body until the skin was stretched taut then let them spring back before he repeated the process.

Steve's head was thrown back on the pillow, neck arched, exposed, and Bucky could almost imagine the frenzied pulse that thrummed under his skin. Bucky watched as Steve's hips thrust upward, as he fucked into the air; his body's natural instincts overrode his brain. He panted loudly as pleasure coursed through his body

"Oh, right, you wouldn't know. " Bucky swatted playfully at the sensitive flesh in his hands.

"Always --" Steve moaned as Bucky took his hand and slapped them again "--sensitive."

Bucky's hand stopped mid-action of another slap. "I thought you said you hadn't done this before? Did you just mean since the serum? Did you -- " he swallowed thickly around his suddenly dry tongue -- "do this before the serum?"

He tried to keep his voice neutral, but visions of little Steve, jerking on his -then much, much smaller- cock, body wracked with spasms as he came...  Bucky dropped his hand, leaned forward on the bed, and ground the heel of his hand into his own cock. He prayed to whatever Gods that had forsaken him his whole life to make amends by stopping the orgasm those images had just brought him to the brink of.  
  
  
  
"Buck--" Steve whined "Please don't stop"

"No. Spill the details or you're not spilling anything else.. "

Bucky reached up to grab Steve's hand as it attempted to continue Bucky's now abandoned task.

"I-- once. I tried. But I couldn't ... finish."

"Some dame caught your eye, huh? Bucky tried not to choke on the jealousy-coated words.  
  
A whole-body shudder rippled through Steve. "Something like that."

Bucky's stomach rolled unpleasantly. He took his hand and smacked it against Steve's balls harder than he meant to. Immediately flooded with guilt, Bucky's apology died on his lips as Steve's hips bucked up and he moaned Bucky's name.

 _Oh. So Steve liked his pleasure with a few shades of pain?_  
  
"Does that feel good?"

Steve nodded jerkily.

"I need you to tell me, Steve. Need to hear you say it." _Fuck clinical and detached_. He was so hard he was throbbing. His cock protested its fabric prison and dribbled precome with every moan that tore from Steve's throat.

"Yes, Buck, please don't stop."

Bucky's metal fingers held the heavy sac up and spanked it with his flesh hand. A steady rhythm of flesh hitting flesh and Steve's moans peppering the air.

"You don't feel as full now," Bucky remarked, his impersonal words at odds with the way metal fingers worked him intimately. "I think another two or three loads and you'll be empty."

Steve's head thrashed side to side on his pillow. Sweat soaked his skin, and damp hair clung to his forehead.

"Do you want to come for me?"

Steve cried out at the words.

"I want to hear you say it for me, Steve."

"Yes. Buck. Buck, _please._ "

"Yes, what?" Bucky slapped at the sensitive flesh again, each contact caused Steve to jerk upwards and a sharp " _ahh_!" filled the room.

"Yes, I want to come."

"For?" Bucky dug his nails into the sensitive flesh and raked them downward.

"Come for you, Buck. I need to come for you!"

Bucky twisted and pinched his palmed prize and Steve jolted off the bed, his cock drooled yet more precome. Bucky groaned at the sight. He didn't know how Steve's body hadn't run dry.

"Oh fuck, fuck, Bucky please." 

Bucky gripped him tight enough to be painful and rubbed his thumb over the glistening liquid pooled at the tip of his cock.

Steve thrashed on the bed, chasing the peak but his ravished body unable to find it. Bucky moved one hand to rub at Steve's taint, desperate to push him over the edge. Steve's hands fisted the sheet at his side, his whole body jerking side to side as the sensation became too much.  
  
Bucky took in the sight before him and made a split-second decision. He leaned forward and he sucked Steve's cockhead into his mouth. He could feel the balls tighten in his flesh hand, felt them twitch and lift as they readied to jettison their seed into his mouth. He tongued over the dripping slit and waited for his reward.

Steve came with a shout, his hands flew to grip Bucky's hair roughly, and locked him in place as hips stuttered, fucking up into Bucky's mouth. The length of his shaft pushed across Bucky's tongue, till the head rubbed at the back of Bucky's throat. Hips jerked in abortive thrusts as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

Bucky tried to relax his throat. He took air in through his nose as his lips and mouth stretched to accommodate Steve's full girth. After a few moments, Steve stilled and the hands in his hair relaxed. Bucky relinquished his prize, enjoying the obscene slurping pop as it pulled free of his lips.

 

Steve didn't spill much this time, and most he'd been given, Bucky had swallowed down eagerly, but the last spurt he had coated his tongue with. In one smooth movement, Bucky moved up Steve's body and hovered above him. Bucky brushed his lips against Steve's and waited.

When Steve's lips parted, Bucky pressed his tongue into his best friend's mouth. Bucky swallowed Steve's moan when their tongues met and he pushed the fluid he'd been keeping into Steve's mouth. Steve jerked up against him in response, all traces of fatigue gone, as desire sparked and caught flame in him once more. As Bucky fed Steve his own come, Steve licked hungrily at his tongue, and his hand - tangled in Bucky's hair - held him tightly in place as if he was afraid Bucky would stop if he dared let go.

Steve rutted against Bucky's jean-clad cock, embarrassment and coyness chased away by desire. Bucky could feel wetness soaking into his jeans and he wasn't sure if it was his or Steve's. Probably both. His cock strained to be released from its taut fabric confines. Suddenly Steve's hand vanished from his hair and he felt two large, strong hands on his ass and crushed them together. Steve's hips thrust picked up force and pace..  
  
Bucky broke the kiss with a gasp. "Fuck, Rogers," he ground out, voice like gravel, "you have to stop that or you're going to make me come."

Steve's only answer was to thrust harder as he opened his mouth, latched on to Bucky's exposed neck and sucked at the tender flesh. His grip on Bucky's ass tightened.

 

Bucky's cock throbbed painfully, and he felt precome as it ran down his shaft. _Ah, fuck it._ He pushed Steve back on the bed and tucked his head down next to his on the pillow. He bit down onto the exposed flesh above Steve's collarbone, sparks flooded every nerve ending when Steve cried out. He should take his jeans off, but there was no time. He was too close.  
  
He sucked on the mark he'd made and ground his cock against Steve's, only a layer of thick, wet denim between them. He could feel his hips thrust furiously, automatically as his body was caught at the point of no return and single-mindedly sought release. He always had a hard time staying quiet, and now, with all the sensations that had hijacked his body, with _Steve_ beneath him, he had no chance. A constant string of _ah ah ahs_ were punctuated with groans and grunts on every thrust.

For his part, Steve matched him in volume. His hoarse voice panted and moaned a string of _yes, fuck, so good, don't stops_   encouragements before his whole body tightened like a string pulled taut on a bow, and he shuddered and screamed Bucky's name. Strong fingers dug into Bucky's flesh hard enough that he knew he would have bruises tomorrow. The thought of being marked as _Steves_ was the tipping point, and he followed Steve over the edge. He rode out the waves of orgasm, as he pulsed in his jeans, and cried out Steve's name over and over like a prayer.

Steve's arms moved from his ass, and wrapped tightly around his torso as Bucky's body went lax, all tension having been funneled out of him through his cock.  
  
"That was ... ." Steve broke off, unable to find any word to accurately describe what had just happened.

Bucky huffed and lifted his head to look at Steve. "Yeah, it was something alright. But, Steve," Bucky wriggled in the tight embrace "kinda hard to breathe."

Steve looked like he was worried Bucky would head straight for the door if given the chance, but he loosened his hold, a little. "Sorry, I just need to hold you for a minute, if that's alright."

"Hey," Bucky said as he repositioned himself on Steve's chest, wriggled downward a little until he could cross his arms on the muscled chest and prop his head on them. His finger drew absentmindedly on Steve's chest, "I'm not going anywhere."

 

"It's just, I used to think about this a lot, back in the day. I've waited too long for this moment, I'm not about to give it up without a fight."  
  
"You--- what?" Bucky's heart literally skipped a beat before it picked up pace and danced wildly in his chest.  
  
Steve suddenly became very interested in the wall opposite the bed. An awkward silence settled between them, dense and uncomfortable.

Bucky decided to laugh off the comment in an effort to dispel the heavy atmosphere."Your heart murmur alone would have probably done you in if I ever put my mouth on you back then." He strained to keep his voice light, and tried to ignore the images that swam in front of his eyes at the thought.  
  
A strange look crossed Steve's face and Bucky actually felt Steve's body increase in temperature.  
  
"Huh. What's with the full-body lobster show?"

"I -- uh, it's nothing." Steve stammered.

"Oh, so this is going to be _good_." Bucky waited. Expectation hung heavy in the air.

"I just," Steve took a deep breath and exhaled the rest of the sentence in a whoosh, "that time I tried to uh, you know, I saw you with your mouth on one of your girls and I was so hard Buck, but I blacked out before I could come."

Bucky's fingers stilled. He wanted to yell at Steve, to admonish him for being so reckless. But it hadn't killed him, so there was nothing to shout about, and bringing up that side of things was just sure to get Steve's back up for nothing. He attempted to keep his voice flat as he took another track. "You could have interrupted. I'm sure she would have been amenable to you getting on your knees for her."

Silence stretched out for one beat too long. Then two. And three.

"I didn't want to be on my knees. I wanted to be in her place, with _you_ on your knees in front of _me_."

Bucky's whole body tensed and his breath hitched and stuck in his throat. He pulled his cheek between his teeth and bit down until the metallic tang coated his tongue to divert his brain's focus. The awful feeling in his belly from earlier was forgotten - replaced by a burning heat lower down.

"Steve.." Bucky's voice was strained.

"Sorry." Steve's arms moved to gently cross over Bucky's waist, and Bucky recognized the gesture for what it was: to allow Bucky to move away from Steve without resistance, following the hard-won confession, should he choose to.

Bucky knew just how much strength it took for Steve to not look away. Truth and fear shone out at him in equal measure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Steve looked at him, softly. Sadly. "You really didn't know?"

Bucky shook his head.

Steve sighed. "It was ... different, back then."

Bucky could see from the glazed-over expression that Steve's mind was playing out some memory before his eyes. He understood. It _was_ a different time, and though times had changed -- or tried to-- the mindset of the era was still firmly ingrained in both of them. It was a hard thing to dismiss when it  _those days_ were so close to _these days_ for them both.

Steve shook his head as if he could shake the memories away. "And even if I had known that you had the same..." Steve searched for the right word for a moment before he continued ".. _proclivities_ , I never would have guessed that you would have been interested." Steve's flushed cheeks deepened in color. "After all, the dames weren't interested, I couldn't expect a strapping young lad like yourself to even look twice in my direction." He tried to laugh it off, but it was hollow and echoed with resignation.

 

This was the moment.  
  
This defining moment, Bucky was about to change everything. He could laugh off what had just happened as getting carried away, caught up in the heat of things. But going forward, there would be no such excuse. No going back. If he put his cards on the table, they were about to become something else. Something _more._

 

"It was _always_ you, Steve." Two pairs of blue eyes locked on to one another and so much was said without a word, but he continued nonetheless. He needed to say it. Steve needed to hear it.  
"But I thought I couldn't have you. Not only because I didn't know what you would say if I told you, but I'm pretty sure I would have killed you if you'd said yes." Bucky's grin hid a private joke.

Steve's answering eye roll and dry "Yeah but what a way to go" made Bucky chuckle softly.

"I thought about it a lot. Even though I knew it could never be. Having you laid out naked before me, hard and needy. Needing me to help you come for the first time." A wry grin danced on his lips. "I never imagined that half a decade later, I'd come pretty close to living the dream." 

Steve groaned. "Only pretty close?"

"Well, you didn't need me for the first one." Bucky winked.

"Sure I did. I was thinking about you when I came."

Bucky's cock twitched with renewed interest. "That so?" His voice was husky. "And what were you thinking about as you jerked off?"

Steve swallowed before answering but held his nerve. "I was thinking about you, dressed in your army uniform, pants around your ankles while you fucked into me like one of your dames."

"Jesus, Steve!" Bucky's cock, which had been slowly firming, was rock hard in an instant.

Steve rocked his hips up against the now soaked denim. "And uh, after you came inside me, you ..." he trailed off.

Bucky caught Steve's nipple between his fingers and pinched, hard. "Tell me."

Steve gasped "you moved down, put your mouth on me and sucked your come out of me."  
  
"Fuck!" Bucky's body spasmed from the jolt of pure arousal that ricocheted through him.  


 Bucky noted how his admission had emboldened Steve. Something had shifted. Broke free. And there was something in the way Steve confessed his fantasy. _Like one of your dames._ Bucky's skin prickled.   
  
He locked eyes on Steve, took a deep breath and went all in. "You have a filthy mouth on you, Rogers. I think we need to put it to better use."

Bucky shifted, away from Steve, sitting back on his haunches, the weight placed squarely over Steve's groin. Steve looked bereft from the sudden loss of contact and made a move to grab Bucky, to pull him back against his chest, but stopped short as he noticed Bucky's fingers. They were poised at the button on his jeans.

Steve went so still Bucky had to check he was still breathing. Assured Steve's heart was still beating, he slowly pushed the button from its captive hole, and moved his fingers to the zipper pull. He drew down the zip deliberately, agonizingly slowly. Steve's eyes narrowed, hyper-focused on its path. The only sound in the room was the sound of quiet metal sliding against metal as each zipper tooth came free. It was only when Bucky pushed the sodden jeans down off his hips, to bunch at his knees on the bed, his cock curved up to his belly with its newfound freedom, that Steve's lungs expelled the trapped breath in a quick rush.

"Oh, _Buck._ " Steve shifted himself, with effort, a little higher on the bed and reached out a greedy hand.

Bucky swatted it away and shook his head.  
  
"No, Rogers. Look what you made me do. You made me mess my favorite jeans." Bucky rolled his own balls, aching and heavy, in his good hand. "I think you need to put that filthy mouth of yours to work and clean up this mess you made." Bucky pushed up from his position, so he was kneeling on the bed, his cock closer to its target.

Steve moaned. His lips fell open as he hunched forward to claim his prize. Bucky's metal hand gripped the back of Steve's head by his hair, and held him in place, an inch out of reach.

"Not so fast. Need to clean me up with that pretty tongue of yours before you get your reward."

"Yes, Buck." Steve's tongue darted out and lapped at him like a kitten at a bowl of milk. Quick, furtive little licks that had Bucky going out of his mind; all at once too much and nowhere near enough.  
  
  
Once his shaft was wet only from Steve's spit, Steve's mouth hovered over the head and looked up at Bucky. Bucky released Steve's hair. At his nod, Steve let the come covered head push past his barely open lips until it was fully engulfed in hot wetness.

Bucky hissed his approval. "Mmm, fuck. Yes, Stevie, just like that." 

Steve might not have had any experience, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm. Bucky let his balls drop and placed both hands in Steve's hair, fingers clenched into fists.

"Yes, good boy, Stevie."

Bucky felt the vibrations of Steve's whimper tremble along his shaft as Steve took as much of his length as he could manage. Bucky had to temper his impulse to grab Steve's head and fuck roughly into his mouth.

"Yeah, doll, Just like that."

Bucky felt Steve moan happily around him at the endearment. Steve sucked him so hard his cheeks hollowed obscenely. His tongue darted over and around Bucky's slit, and hungrily lapped up every new dribble of precome his body offered. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain in the best possible way.

Bucky reached down and pulled his balls tightly away from his body, wanting to prolong this torturous pleasure for as long as possible. When Steve rubbed his teeth gently over his come slit, Bucky jerked his cock roughly from Steve's mouth.

"Sorry, Buck, did I hurt--"

Bucky rocked back on his heels on the bed, gripped the bedsheets in one hand, and strangled the base of his cock in the other. He shook his head. "No. You almost made me lose my load down your throat is all. I just need a minute to get myself under control. ...Which is good, because we're gonna need a few minutes to prepare you so I can come inside you instead."

Steve shook his head.

"You've changed your mind?" Bucky tried not to show the swell of disappointment that threatened to swallow him whole from the inside.

"No." Steve shook his head and smiled. "I want you, Buck, I want you to fuck me. But you don't need to prepare me. I, uh, want it to hurt." He took in the look on Bucky's face, he added hastily "I mean, a bit. It feels good when it hurts a little."

Bucky shifted back to his favorite position. He momentarily started when he found purchase against the cool, damp sheets. "Oh baby doll, don't worry, it's gonna hurt a bit anyway." Without warning, but with easy motions, Bucky pulled Steve forward, flipped him around and pushed him back down on the bed, on all fours.

"I don't suppose you have any lube laying around, so all we've got is my mouth and, well.. " Bucky swiped two fingers down through the slick covering Steve's cock and rubbed them against his tight hole in a delicious promise of what was to come. 

 


	4. Everything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve shoved his face down into the mattress, the wrinkled sheet flooding his nose with a cloying, artificially floral scent, but not strong enough to cover the heady mix of sex and sweat that blanketed the room. He felt so dirty like this, on his knees, ass jutting high into the air, desperate. Bucky’s hand ran down the sweat-slicked slope of his back, short nails raking over him, pressing in sharply, leaving a scarlet trail across his skin - marking him. Steve moaned and bit at the sheet, grinding it between his teeth, tonguing at the fabric. “MMmff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by FestiveFerret who deserves a medal --and possibly some kind of booster shot-- after wading through so, so much smut for me.  
> <3 <3 <3

Steve shoved his face down into the mattress, the wrinkled sheet flooding his nose with a cloying, artificially floral scent, but not strong enough to cover the heady mix of sex and sweat that blanketed the room. He felt so dirty like this, on his knees, ass jutting high into the air, desperate. Bucky’s hand ran down the sweat-slicked slope of his back, short nails raking over him, pressing in sharply, leaving a scarlet trail across his skin - _marking him_ . Steve moaned and bit at the sheet, grinding it between his teeth, tonguing at the fabric. “ _MMmff.”_

Warm fingers wrapped around his cock, clenching hard as they slid up his length. Steve moaned as they flicked over the sensitive tip and again, louder, when the digits, now slick with his mess, rubbed small circles around his hole. He pushed back, wanting to feel Bucky --some part, _any_ part of Bucky-- inside him.   
  
A soft chuckle, low and husky, sounded from behind him, and a metal hand pressed against his asscheek, thwarting his efforts.

" _Soon,_ Steve."

Releasing the sheet from his teeth, Steve rolled his face to the side, grinding his cheek against the spit-soaked fabric, and whined Bucky's name. Every inch of his skin was lit up with sparking nerves. He had never felt so wildly out of control: his brain was fuzzy, unable to process the overload of sensations. Bucky was flooding him with pleasure, threatening to drown him in it.

Tremors wracked his body as two fingers pressed against his hole, and he froze, not wanting to give Bucky any reason to stop their slow, delicious descent into this body. He could feel the thick fingers pressing in, sliding deeper, and he gasped when wide knuckles forced past his rim.   
  
Steve keened and rocked back against them, feeling his ass stretching, burning at the intrusion. When the fingers started to move, to spread out inside him, stretching him further, Steve thought he might just pass out. He scrubbed his face against the sheet furiously, cursing Stark for his too expensive, too high-thread-count sheets, and the silky slide against his cheek. He needed rough, needed friction, needed… _something_. Desperate noises of frustration tore from his throat.

"You okay?" Bucky’s voice was breathless.  
  
Steve nodded his head frantically. "Yes. Fuck." All lingering traces of embarrassment had longed since burned off him. He was just a mess of sweat and come and _need._ He pushed back again, his voice breaking. "More, Buck, _please._ "

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" Bucky's voice was rough and low.  
  
Bucky pulled his fingers out of him, and Steve clenched his ass, trying to stop the slow drag. Behind him, Bucky swore, and Steve felt a hard, wet heat rubbing against the back of his thigh. He sucked in a shaking breath and balled his hands in the sheets as he realized Bucky was grinding his cock against him. _Fuckfuckfuck._ Steve reached back blindly, desperately, drawing twin moans when he found Bucky's cock, sliding up the shaft and over the head, fingers coming away covered in his slick.

" _Jesus,_ Steve! Fuck." Bucky shifted his hips, and Steve's fingers clenched around thin air. Steve whined at the loss of contact before he rubbed his sticky fingers to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Steve’s tongue laved Bucky's nectar off his skin, the taste filling his mouth, short-circuiting his brain, and sending wanton moans tumbling from his throat.    
  
Bucky's trembling breath behind him was the only warning Steve had before two hands were spreading his cheeks wide, and he there was a soft fluttering against his puckered hole.

Steve's hips jerked back instinctively as the soft touch came again. _Oh._ _Oh fuck._ Crying out, Steve shuddered as Bucky's tongue flattened against his hole, licking long stripes, his beard scratching against Steve’s taint.   
  
"Oh.. oh... Buck--" The feeling of Bucky's tongue bathing his ass had Steve rutting back against him.

"Mmmmm." Bucky hummed against him, pressing sucking, sloppy kisses to the sensitive flesh.   
  
Just when Steve thought it was too much, Bucky's tongue stiffened and worked inside him. Steve cried out, precome sliding down his shaft as he reached to wrap a hand around himself. Still eating his ass, Bucky growled and nipped at his entrance, scraping his teeth over the delicate flesh, and Steve yelped and dropped his hand, shoving it in his mouth and biting down hard.

Bucky's tongue fucked into him, Steve's ass clenching involuntarily against the short stabbing thrusts, his head thrashing on the bed. His entire body was screaming in protest --the exhausted muscles of his legs were quivering, threatening to give out, his arms burning and shaking-- but still he pressed back against Bucky's face. Hips tilting back and forth, seeking out the scratchy friction of Bucky's beard. Bucky kissed and licked him relentlessly, his tongue moving over and inside Steve with purpose. _He was so close. So close._

"B-Buck… need you inside me... not gonna last."

Bucky's tongue took one last long lick at his insides before sliding out of him. "You like me eating your ass, Stevie?"

Steve's insides ignited at the words coming from Bucky's mouth. _He never knew Bucky was so.._ . Steve fucking _loved_ this side of him. He was so far gone, too strung out on lust and he just nodded.

"Say it, Steve. Say you like me eating your ass." Bucky sounded as desperate as Steve felt.

Shame bloomed inside him, warred with lust, and lost. "Love you eating my ass, Buck."

Bucky's hand caressed Steve’s ass cheek tenderly before it slipped down and rubbed over his hole. "Yeah, that's my good boy."

" _Uhh, fuck!"_  The praise jolted over Steve’s skin, flashing through his body and exploding into white sparks behind his eyes. His exhausted leg muscles convulsed, and he collapsed on the bed, his cock jerking against the sheets as he came, rutting up against them, gasping for air. Vicious pleasure was tearing him apart from the inside out, roiling static filled his mind, and he was lost.

Time stalled as Steve lay unmoving on the mattress, his body twitching as aftershocks assailed his body. Slowly, he became aware of a gentle hand running through his hair, soothing words his brain couldn’t grasp danced to his ear.

"Buck?" His own voice sounded far away, floating just out of reach.

"Hey, pal, you okay?"

The tension vibrating in Bucky's words was enough to pull Steve to the surface of consciousness. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."   
  
Bucky chuckled. "Ain't nothing to apologize for." Bucky let out a long, low breath. "That was the best thing I've ever seen."

The sound of Bucky's heavy breathing blending with the soft whirs and chinks of his arm plates  --constantly readjusting themselves like metal muscle spasms-- sharpened Steve’s focus. The circuits would do that in times of stress, and Steve could just imagine the hand not currently sweeping through his hair clenched into a strained fist.   
  
Steve's sluggish body moved in slow motion, like trying to swim through treacle, but after considerable effort, he succeeded in flopping over on to his back. He laid there panting softly, looking up at Bucky. Bucky, who was naked, sweat glistening on smooth skin, sitting back on his heels, cock jutting out proudly, shiny with precome. Steve swallowed harshly, his dry tongue scratching like sandpaper inside his mouth. The metal hand was curled into a fist alright, wrapped snugly around the base of his dark red shaft.

Steve's tongue roughed his lips, scraping them, offering no relief. He didn’t know how just the sight of Bucky's body could ignite desire inside him. Steve was completely and utterly wrecked, but seeing Bucky aroused and needy triggered something primal within him. He wanted to be the one, the thing, that brought Bucky bliss, to sprawl on the bed and have Bucky use his body, to fuck into him heedlessly, for Bucky to take his pleasure. 

 Steve’s arms trembled as he pushed against them, jerking himself up and forward.

"Whoa, Steve, easy." Strong hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him as he collided with Bucky's chest.

Steve's fingers traced the thick vein running up the underside of Bucky's cock. Bucky groaned at the touch.   
  
"I still want you, Buck."

Steve could _feel_ the restraint tight in Bucky's voice, curling around each word like a vice, like he was choking on it. "Mmm. Another day, Steve. Even you have limits, and I think we've reached them." Warm fingers rubbed his flagging erection gently.

Steve had been so fixated on Bucky, he had all but forgotten about his not-so-little problem. He watched as his cock twitched weakly against Bucky's fingers. He was all but spent; he could probably just collapse and let exhaustion claim him, but...

Steve shook his head and rubbed his thumb over the leaking slit of Bucky's cock. He was depleted, he felt wrecked and broken, and he wasn’t sure he would survive it, but he knew he couldn’t live without knowing what it felt like to have Bucky inside him.   
  
The better part of a century had rolled over them, between them, and Steve didn’t want to waste one more minute without being with Bucky, in every way he'd dreamed about and never thought he could have. He wasn’t sure what the morning would bring. Things had changed between them, forever, and he couldn’t take the risk that this would be their only night together, their only chance, _his_ only chance.

He rubbed his face against Bucky's chest, sliding against the sweat, nostrils flaring as he breathed in the scent that was uniquely _Bucky._ "Please, Buck."

Steve felt the shuddering moan, and beneath that, the strong heartbeat in Bucky’s chest, under his cheek. He slid against Bucky, turning his face to grip a small rosy nipple between his teeth, feeling the pace in Bucky's chest increase as he suckled on it.

"Steve..."

In a single word, Steve could hear Bucky's resolve wavering. Steve relinquished the nub and traced the scent of Bucky, running his nose across the broad chest, following the trail to where it was the strongest. Nuzzling into Bucky's armpit, nudging the warm arm out of the way, Steve rubbed his face indecently against Bucky, relishing the feel of hair scraping at him, covering himself in Bucky's musk.  
  
"Buck, _please._ I want to know what it's like to have you inside me."

Bucky's fingers tangled in Steve's hair, gasping harshly.

" _Please, please, please_ , need you in me,” Steve begged. “I’ve waited so long."

The fingers tightened in Steve’s hair, and Bucky jerked his head back sharply. Steve’s neck arched back, exposed, and he shivered. Bucky stared down at him, and Steve could see the war playing out in his mind: what he was begging for vs what Bucky thought was best for him, yes vs no.

Steve waited, hoping.

Seven heartbeats later, Bucky's mouth was sucking a bruise into the exposed flesh of Steve’s neck, teeth and tongue claiming him before he was being pushed back into the soft mattress. Bucky gripped Steve's hips and dragged his body down to the end of the bed, his ass riding the empty air beyond. His legs were lifted and placed on broad shoulders, his mind registering the texture and temperature differences beneath his skin. He couldn’t stop the whimpers falling from his lips.

"It's okay, Stevie, I got ya, just relax."

Bucky was taking his whole weight like it was nothing, as if he weighed no more than a dame. Steve's mind sharpened and splintered at the thought. He felt _small_ again. Like all those years had faded away and he wasn't Captain America, he wasn’t a symbol, or an idea, he was just _Steve_ again. They were just Steve and Bucky. The fantasy of all those years ago finally permeating reality. A sob wrenched free from his chest, and tears burned wet trails down his cheeks.   
  
Bucky stilled, the hard line of his cock pressing against the curve of Steve’s ass.   
  
"Steve...?"

Steve shook his head. "Nothing's wrong Buck. It's _perfect._ " Bucky remained unmoving against him, second thoughts showing through the tight clench of his jaw. Only when Steve groaned impatiently, tilting his hips forward, sending a delicious spike of friction through both of them, did Bucky finally move.

"Tell me if you want me to slow down or stop, okay?"

Steve nodded, eyes going wide as Bucky spat onto his fingers. Steve moaned as he worked them into him, whining Bucky's name hungrily. Closing his eyes, the feeling of Bucky pulling him back onto his cock washed over him. Bucky was big. Steve felt the head pushing against him, not waiting for permission, just taking it. Bucky had worked him open with his fingers and mouth, but Steve was struggling to stretch around Bucky's girth. Pain cut sharply into his mind, and he clenched instinctively.

"It's okay, just relax your body. I'll make you feel good."

Bucky was right. Pleasure with a little pain felt so good, made his brain thrill at the wrongness of it, ratcheting up the pleasure, but too much pain just chased the pleasure away. Steve took a deep breath, mentally working to calm his bracing body.    
  
Bucky rocked his hips gently, working his way inside slowly, carefully. The alarms firing in Steve's brain faded, giving way to a feeling of exquisite fullness. Steve wriggled, trying to make Bucky move faster.   
  
" _More,_ Buck."

Steve felt Bucky's slow, measured breathing, the expanding rise and fall of Bucky's chest as it shifted beneath his legs. He rocked his hips forward, invitingly. 

Bucky grumbled at the motion, frustration rolling off him in waves. "For fuck's sake, Steve, I don't want to hurt you, we gotta take it slow."

Steve grumbled right back at him impatiently. Now that his body was accustomed to Bucky inside him, he wanted _more._ Craved it. " _Fuck_ slow, Bucky. If you don't slide balls deep inside me right now I'm going to push you down and do it myself."

Steve knew it was an empty threat borne from desperation, hoped the dirty words would affect Bucky enough to spur him into motion. Bucky's breath expelled in a sharp hiss as his hips jerked forward, sliding home in one long thrust, bottoming out against Steve, hard fingers digging into his hips. Steve's stuttering gasp was swallowed up by Bucky's guttural moan. 

Steve's eyes opened in time to see Bucky’s head dropping back, his face scrunched up, brows knitting together, teeth biting into his lip urgently. Steve’s eyes traced over his own legs, hiked up over Bucky's shoulders then trailed down Bucky’s chest, to where his ass was pulled flush against Bucky's body. Metal and flesh hands worked together to cradle Steve's hips, taking his weight, pressing bruises into his flesh as Bucky held him still.   
  
Steve could tell Bucky was on the edge, fighting to stop from spilling inside him after a single thrust, and Steve swelled, loving that he could affect Bucky just as much as the reverse.

Time was measured in heartbeats and moans, and it was too much and not nearly enough when Bucky started moving inside him. His ass was pulled wide, Bucky so deep inside him, filling him, becoming a part of him. Steve’s brain reeled with an overload of sensations. It was so much better than his fantasies could ever conjure, so much more in every way.

"So… fucking… tight..." Bucky's voice was hoarse, but it slid over Steve's body like a caress. 

Bucky was drawing back, sliding out of him, but the disappointed whimper died in his throat as Bucky surged back inside him harder than before. And again. Feeling like a rag doll in Bucky's grasp, Steve’s body was lax, heaving back and forth at Bucky's mercy as he thrust into him, harder, deeper. And when Bucky shifted, hoisted Steve higher and fucked up into him, he pressed somewhere inside that made Steve howl.

Steve’s fingers clutched at the sheets, fisting them tightly, desperate for an anchor to keep him from shattering into a million pieces as Bucky repeated the motion, slamming into him, over and over. The air in his lungs was pushed out with each thrust, exiting in small puffed moans and pants and begging pleas: Y _es. More. Please. Bucky. Don't stop._

Steve's cock was laying against his belly, barely hard, jerking as Bucky's frenzied assault sent waves of motion rippling through his body. The sensation was almost unbearable, the sharp spikes of pleasure ratcheting him _higher, tighter, closer_ with each blunt stab.

Bucky's constant litany of, “ _Steve, Steve, Steve,”_ broke as Bucky spilled hot and wet inside him. The pulses deep inside his belly were too much, and Steve convulsed on the bed, hands fisting his hair roughly as his head thrashed, overloaded pleasure signals coalescing in his brain. His calves cramped painfully, toes curling in the air high above him as he seized against Bucky's body. His balls tightened uselessly, his cock jerking dryly on his belly, having nothing left to give. He felt like his very soul was on fire, his skin the only thing keeping him from turning into a million embers and dissolving into sweet oblivion.

Steve’s ass hit the mattress and Bucky's weight crushed down on top of him, bending him almost in half. Bucky was panting heavily, his head tucked against Steve's throat, hips twitching in abortive, little thrusts as he worked through the tail end of his orgasm.   
  
Steve lay uselessly under Bucky for a long moment as his mind worked to bring him back to reality. The fog of ecstasy clearing, he ran his hands through the damp strands of Bucky’s hair, lovingly chasing them off the beautiful face beneath.   
  
Bucky’s eyelids fluttered open and light eyes fixed on Steve. " _Wow_."

Steve chuckled at the reverence in Bucky's voice. "Yeah."

Bucky pushed off Steve, careful not to break their connection, and lowered Steve's aching legs. He ran a hand down Steve's belly.   
  
"Did you..?"

Thankful he didn't have the energy left to blush, Steve nodded slowly. "I think I'm, ah..." He took a deep breath, searching for a better word but came up lacking. "...um, empty." 

Bucky's fingers traced Steve's now wilted cock, still quite impressive in size but much less angry-looking. Steve sucked in a gasp as the fingers continued their path downward, gently cupped sensitive balls, and gave an assessing squeeze.

"So, it turns out I was right all along." The words rolled around in the amusement tucked away at the back of Bucky's throat, coming out coated in barely suppressed mirth.   
  
Steve's chest was warm with affection, but he made a show of swatting at Bucky's arm, playfully.   
  
"But"--Bucky's voice dropped low as he moved back. Steve felt the slow slide of Bucky's cock as it dragged out of him, his ass clenching in reproach--"you're wrong. You're not empty. Not yet."

Bucky spread Steve's legs apart easily, kneeling between them. "Fuck, Steve, you should see yourself, all fucked out and sloppy, my come is running out of you."

Steve struggled to his elbows to afford himself a better view. He could feel Bucky's come sliding thickly out of his hole, and gasped when Bucky's face pressed against him, tonguing at the trail. Bucky hummed hungrily against Steve, his tongue sliding inside easily, circling around his own seed and pulling it into his mouth.   
  
Steve squeezed his eyes shut as Bucky's beautiful lips kissed and sucked at him. _So fucking filthy. So hot._ Steve collapsed on the bed, finally reaching breaking point, his mind going blank, unable to do anything but float as Bucky finished cleaning him out.

. . .

Strong hands, one warm, one cool, were moving him back up the bed.

"Steve?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Is it okay if I stay?"

Steve's hands reached out blindly, wrapping around the solid warmth of his best friend and pulling him down. Bucky's breath left him in an _oof_ as they collided sharply. Steve hummed happily at the reassuring weight pressing against him, letting his body float, only the feel of Bucky tethering him to the world.

"Buck? Do something else for me?" His eyelids were too heavy to open easily, but he felt Bucky's gaze on him, and heard the smile in the answer.

"Haven't we crossed everything off the list by now?"

Steve smiled sleepily. "Kiss me?" He tipped his chin forward and waited.

He heard Bucky's small, “ _oh,”_ and then he felt the pressure of lips against his. The kiss was filled with exhaustion not passion, was rough and chapped instead of soft and smooth, filled with the bitter tang of Bucky's come and his own salty sweat, but to Steve, it was _perfect._ He glided his hand over Bucky's skin, cupping his cheek gently before breaking the kiss, angling his chin down and resting his forehead against Bucky's.

The first rays of sunlight were sneaking into the room. Slithers of brightness turned the black of his eyelids a crimson red, burning away the night, and bringing the creeping doubts that Steve suspected always accompanied the morning after the night before.   
  
Drawing a slow, steadying breath through his nose, Steve breathed in the scent of Bucky, trapping it in his lungs until they were burning with it. He pushed the air out slowly, deliberately, forcing his eyes open to let the morning rays burn away the shadows of uncertainty.

He focused on the one thing that mattered. The thing right in front of his eyes, under his fingers, under his skin. Bucky was his best friend. His Bucky. _His._ Nothing could ever change that.

"Love you, Buck." 

"Love you, too, Stevie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for an epilogue, but that may take it into Stuckony (Steve/Bucky/Tony) territory and I'm not sure you're all here for that. Feel free to weigh in on that, or if you some ideas on what you'd like to see for a revenge chapter (or if you don't want one, and prefer to leave it at this). I'm always curious to know what you guys think.  
> 


	5. Of Goats, Glitter and Goading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We talked about this."  
> Bucky nodded. "You said no revenge."  
> Steve's lip twisted down as one eyebrow quirked up, motioning toward the coil of rope in Bucky's hands.  
> "This isn't revenge. This is a prank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the long suffering FestiveFerret. (Sorry, and thankyou! <3)

Tony entered the communal floor to find a small army of four-legged creatures doing exactly what you’d expect a small army of four-legged creatures to do. “What’s with all the bambis?”

“Deer,” Natasha’s voice called from across the room as she sipped her morning coffee: triple espresso, two sugars.

“Yes, honey?” Tony frowned at the two hairy beasts headbutting each other in the corner.

Clint broke off a piece of toast and tossed it to the animal closest to him. “Bambi was a deer, these are goats.”

“Imagine how much that distinction means to me. Where, pray tell,  _ Discovery Channel _ , did they come from?”

Sam, playing mine not yours with his newspaper and a goat, chimed in, “Wakanda. I mean, best guess.”

Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m in the Twilight Zone. Am I in the Twilight Zone? FRIDAY, run a diagnostic.” He sighed. “How would a gaggle of Wakandian goats be in New York?”

“Geese,” supplied Clint, who was now hand-feeding his new toast-loving friend.

Tony moved to shoo a small creature that was gnawing on the couch throw cushions. “I think we’ve established they’re goats.”

“No, geese come in a gaggle, goats form a herd, or a tribe,” Clint deadpanned.

“I -- what?” Tony marched over to Clint and held out his arm. “Pinch me.”

Clint didn’t ask questions, just grabbed an arrow from low behind his back and poked Tony pointedly in the thigh.

“Jesus! Where the hell were you keeping that? Do I need some Purell?” He rubbed at his thigh. “Also, ow!”

“The Strange doctor sent them,” Sam called from behind his newspaper, reading around a large bite mark.

“Stephen Strange,” Natasha supplied helpfully. “Sam, can I have the obituaries when you’re done?”

“That’s what I said.” Sheets of folded paper sailed over Tony’s head.

“Stop!” Tony held up his arms at the ragtag group, shaking his leg in an unsuccessful attempt to fend off the furry animal that was nibbling at his pant leg. “Now that we’ve established I’m not dreaming, someone, using small words, very few, small words, tell me why the hell The Wizard of Oz abducted an army of wee beasties from another continent and teleported them to my formerly pristine castle in the sky?”

Tony watched the looks that passed between Sam, Clint, and Natasha.

Clint shrugged casually. “No. Idea.” He pulled his shades down and leaned back on the couch.

As if it was a fuzzy little exclamation point, the goat chewing on Tony's pant leg stopped then headbutted him sharply in the shin.

“Son of a -----”  
  


. . .

  
“...Tony? C’mon, man, this is heavy.” Rhodey’s voice echoed around Tony’s helmet.

“What… just… happened?” Tony blinked slowly, small flashes of light were dancing before his eyes.

Blue lights flickered on his display, but they were obscured by the mound of glittering specks clinging to the screen.

“Foreign particle matter detected in your suit, boss. Should I employ cleaning protocols?”

“Well, obviously.” Tony inhaled, wincing as specks of foil hitched a ride, rolling around and settling in his lungs.

Tony felt the fans kick on in his suit and realized his mistake immediately.

“NO! FRIDAY, BELAY THAT!”

But it was too late. The forced air filled the enclosed space, but instead of vacuuming the offending sparkles, the currents picked up the mountain of glitter, and covered him in it. The offensive matter stuck to his every available inch of skin, settling in his hair, and swirling up his nose.

“Shit.”

Unaware of the storm that was currently --and literally-- swirling inside the suit opposite him, Rhodey readjusted his side of the king-sized bed frame impatiently.    
  
“We could just load this back on the truck. Let Cap and Barnes go to IKEA and pick out a build-it-yourself kind. It would serve them right for breaking the first one.”

Tony grimaced. The frame wouldn’t fit in the tower’s elevators, so Tony had volunteered himself and Rhodey to suit up and bring it through a very oversized window, instead. Clearly, no good deed going unpunished was as true today as the night he’d given Steve a hand. Or, had Bucky give him a hand.

“And be subjected to loud banging of another sort going on in that room at all hours?” He shook his head, gripped his end of the bed frame tightly, and ignited his thrusters.

Within a matter of moments, they had become airborne, the bed had been deposited in Steve and Bucky’s room, and Tony began stomping his way to his own floor, toward the promise of a real cleaning protocol: the large overhead shower panels waiting for him in his bathroom.

He clambered out of his suit the old fashioned way, not wanting any witnesses that the long trek from his workshop to his bedroom would provide. He thumbed at the control panel, starting the water spray and set the temperature to "hot enough to melt glitter."

A soft laugh sounded from behind him. “What unicorn threw up on you?"

“The murderous kind. Or, the kind I’m going to murder. Split the difference.”

Pepper’s lips twitched with unabashed amusement as her eyes raked over his naked body. The coating of shimmering particles on his skin reflected the light across the tiles like he was a long-lost Cullen. Tony could tell she was filing this away to be used against him at a later date.    
  
“Do I even want to know?”

“Let’s just say Brainwashed Bear and I are overdue for a little chat.” Tony coughed on the steam rapidly filling the room.

Pepper moved to thump him on the back --harder than was strictly warranted in Tony’s opinion-- and swirls of glitter floated out on the puffs of air jettisoned from his lungs like he was a human-glitter-piñata hybrid.

“Hey,” he rasped. “A little of that gentle compassion you’re always showing others wouldn’t go amiss right now.”

Pepper’s mouth pressed into a tight seam and she shook her head. “Sorry, Tony, I’m Team Bucky on this one. You’re lucky he went with the glitter option. I heard the first plan was super glue.”

  
 . . .

  
Steve walked into the common area to find Sam making waffles, Natasha critiquing Sam making waffles, and Clint laid out on the couch watching an Animal Planet documentary on frogs. Bucky was alone out on the balcony.

Steve did a double-take. “Hey, Buck? Whatcha doin’?”

Bucky looked like he was considering his answer carefully. “Weight lifting.”

Steve frowned at the lack of weights in Bucky’s general vicinity.

The loud  _ ding _ of a timer sounded on the coffee table next to Clint. “That’s thirty minutes, Barnes.”

Bucky grunted.

Steve’s eyes narrowed on the rope in Bucky’s hand. “Bucky...”

“It’s fine.”

“ _ Buck _ .”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s only been half an hour. The internet says it takes at least a day to kill you. He’s fine probably.”

“We talked about this.”

Bucky nodded. “You said no revenge.”

The corners of Steve’s lips twisted down as one eyebrow quirked up. He motioned toward the coil of rope in Bucky’s hands.

“This isn’t revenge. This is a prank.”

“You know, technically, it’s both.” The amusement in Natasha’s voice was clear. 

Steve’s head lolled to the side, exasperation rearranging his features. “Buck. C’mon, bring him up.”

Bucky huffed and considered his options. Steve crossed off two of the three options with the narrowing of his eyes. Bucky huffed again.   
  
“Fine.”

He gave one super-soldier-strength tug, and Tony came flying over the balcony railing, hit the floor, and skipped like a stone across water as he bumped his way to a stop between the two men. Steve suspected those were a string of curses he was yelling, but it was hard to tell; the duct tape across his mouth muffled his words into an incoherent chorus of  _ mpff mppfff mmmrrrs. _

Dropping the rope, Bucky moved toward the bound billionaire, who squirmed in panic toward Steve. Placing a foot none too gently on Tony’s chest, Bucky reached down to rip the duct tape off his mouth, the sharp tearing noise drowned out by Tony’s shriek of pain.

“Jesus, if I wanted a facial wax, I would have asked,” Tony gasped, reaching up to assess the damage.

"Alright, you've had your fun now, both of you. It's time to let this go," Steve admonished them. He loosened the knots bonding Tony's ankles with one easy tug, and Tony scrambled to his feet.

"Fun? You call this  _ fun _ ? How is MurderDeathKill trussing me up and throwing me off a building, _ my building _ , in any way comparable to what I did?" He rubbed his back, wincing before glaring at Bucky. "And I'm sending you the bill for my next chiropractor visit, by the way."

"You nearly killed Steve!" It was the longest sentence Bucky had tossed Tony's way since _ “ _ The Incident”.

"You nearly killed me, which is arguably worse, because it's  _ me! _ "

"Depends on your point of view, really," added Sam, around a mouth full of waffle.

"So it's settled. This stops now." Steve’s eyes glittered dangerously.

Tony shook his head. "You should be thanking me, _ both of you _ . I brought you two closer --figuratively, literally,  _ sexually _ . You should be sending me a gift basket, a nice one with wine and a variety of cheeses!"

Bucky's hands curled into fists at his side. He took a step closer to Tony, who took two steps back until he collided with Steve's chest.

 " _ Enough! _ "

Bucky huffed and nodded once, his shoulders dropping as a muscle ticked in his jaw. He strode across the room.   
  
He stopped when Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are we good?"

Bucky's lips tipped up briefly. " _ We _ are." He squeezed Steve's arm then brushed past him, headed for their now shared room.

"And I'm just supposed to believe he's not going to stab me in my sleep?"

"You can trust him, Tony. He’s not going to hurt you."

"And you know this, how? Did combining your  _ powers _ " --Steve blushed slightly at the suggestive waggle of Tony's brows-- "suddenly give you the gift of foresight?"

"You can trust him because I do. If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead, and no one would ever find your body."

Steve could feel Tony’s glare following him as he walked away, tracing the path Bucky had taken only moments before.

  
 . . .

  
Later that evening, Bucky sank down on the couch next to Tony, two glasses of amber fluid clutched in his hands.  

Tony eyed him warily. "Isn't this the part where you say you come in peace?" He was aiming for light and airy, but landed in darkly suspicious instead.

Bucky grunted and took a sip from his own glass, metal hand still held aloft with the other.

"This is an olive branch, yes? In liquid form? You're not trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me while Steve and Pepper are away?"

Bucky's lip curled in disgust -- _ and that's a little harsh, Tony thought _ \-- before commenting, "Steve's on his way home now. Pepper will be back tomorrow?"

"No," Tony drew out slowly, surprised Barnes was aware of Pepper's schedule. "In two days."

Bucky nodded absently, taking another sip from his glass.

"Look, Scarecrow _ , _ I get Steve probably made you --" Tony cleared his throat at Bucky's narrowing eyes "-- _ asked _ you to break bread, or hard liquor, make peace, yadda yadda, and not saying I don't trust you, but..." He shrugged. "I  _ don't _ trust you." His fingers rubbed at the edges of his mouth, still raw from the duct tape.

Bucky reached over and pressed his own glass into Tony's chest then released it. A small measure of pleasure darkening his eyes as he watched Tony scramble to grab the glass before its contents spilled all over him. Bucky took a long swallow from the glass in his metal hand, light blue eyes daring Tony to refuse, silently mocking him for his paranoia.

You could cut the tension in the room with a _ ...Steve. _ He walked into the room and paused, eyes going from Bucky to Tony to the glasses in each hand.

"Everything okay here?"

Bucky threw back the liquid in the new glass in one long swallow and planted it on the coffee table in front of him. He turned his eyes on Tony.

Not able to resist a challenge, Tony mimicked the display, and both men stood at the same time. Tony's chin lifted, eyes brimming with victory and a side of _ fuck you. _ Bucky's eyes sparkled, a ghost of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and Tony faltered.

Bucky turned away and moved to Steve. Wrapping his arms around his now-boyfriend, Bucky pulled him close and claimed his mouth. Tony cleared his throat and averted his gaze. When they finally parted, they were both breathless and glassy-eyed.

"Uh, night Tony!" Steve called over his shoulder as Bucky put a hand on the swell of Steve's ass and guided him in the general direction of their room.

It didn’t take Tony more than a tenth of his IQ points to figure out he was going to need his earplugs again tonight. He groaned and fell back against the couch, trying to decide if more alcohol would help numb his eardrums. Who knew two super soldiers having sex would be so goddamn loud? If he were being honest with himself, he would admit he was impressed with, and more than a little jealous of, their endurance and refractory period. But he wasn’t, so he clung to petty annoyance instead. He would have to start charging these guys for all the repairs they were wracking up: the door, the bed, and how the hell had they managed to break the sink? He didn't want to know.

What he _ wanted  _ was another drink. His back was still aching after his little stint as a reverse hangman. He stilled. He also wanted to know why he was suddenly feeling stirrings in certain other parts of his anatomy.

Rather intense stirrings.

_ Oh.  _ _  
_ _  
_ Intensely alarming stirrings.   
  
…   
  
_ FUCKING BARNES! _ _  
_ _  
_   
. . . 

  
It was ass o'clock in the morning --most commonly known as 5 A.M-- and Tony whined pitifully. He was grateful the noises on the floor above him had finally abated. No resounding crashes obviously meant the new frame held up well. He squeezed his eyes shut against the images  _ that  _ particular thought brought.

He sagged against the headboard, exhausted. He had been up all night, in more ways than one.

"FRIDAY, call Pepper again."

"She's not picking up, boss. I believe her position on not seeing you until she gets back is still firm."

Tony sighed, letting his head flop back against the headboard. He groaned in pain. "So am I."

The sound of wood splintering dragged Tony's attention to the door and the hulking figure of Bucky who leaned nonchalantly against the broken door frame.

Another repair to add to their tab, fantastic.

Tony scrambled --albeit lethargically-- to cover himself with the sheet, drawing his legs up to hide the tented fabric at his waist. He had no blood left in his brain to conjure up a cutting remark, seeing as how it was all trapped in his dick.

" _ You!  _ " was all he could manage.

Bucky took in his wrecked appearance and smiled a real smile, pearly-white teeth shining in the dim light of the hall --Tony did a double take, realizing it was the first time he had seen that the assassin actually had teeth-- and watched as Bucky crossed his arms over the broad expanse of chest on display, naked and shiny with sweat.

"Just wanted to check in on you, Stark. Make sure you're okay. Dosing a man with a heart condition is a tricky business." Bucky pushed off the door frame and turned away. "You know, such a shame that Pepper isn't here..."

Tony's mouth fell open. He knew Bucky had dosed him, of course, but the actual extent of the planning finally registered in his brain, little dots connecting and glowing belatedly, like Christmas lights firing in March.

Bucky's parting words drifted back to him as he sauntered away, and Tony knew what they would be before they reached him.   
  
" _...to lend a hand, as they say.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd that's all folks! 
> 
> If you stuck it out this far, I hope you liked the story! And I really hope this didn't disappoint (not gonna lie, I wasn't planning on writing a 'revenge' chapter when all this started so I was a bit lost on how to approach it). I like to think Bucky recruited everyone into helping Tony get his comeuppance, even Pepper, because turnabout is fair play, after all!


End file.
